


"My Darling, Oedipus"

by MrsKohakuSato



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Dysfunctional Family, F/M, Mother-Son Relationship, Multi, Unhealthy Relationships, but basically dysfunctional family, i guess in some regards
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-13
Updated: 2018-10-09
Packaged: 2019-06-09 14:12:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15269190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrsKohakuSato/pseuds/MrsKohakuSato
Summary: Evil Empress Haggar au our in other words, an Au where Honerva doesn't lose her memories and instead rules at Zarkon's side as his Witch Empress, and raises Lotor.





	1. "Psychosis"

**Author's Note:**

> “I don’t want your pity.” she muttered. Her chest constricts, and burns, as she inhales and exhales through her nose. Her fingers are bordering on white, her grip slightly cracking the sooth metal of her desk. 
> 
> There’s a difference between pity and sympathy, Honerva. 
> 
> “I want neither from you.”
> 
> You’re so cold, Honerva. Always, so cold. 
> 
> “I am not cold. I am practical. I see things for what they are. Not what can or cannot be. It is simply being rational, logical, and unbiased. Someone as moronically idealistic as you, would never understand that.” her chest continues to burn which each word that leaves her lips. It’s a struggle to slimpy stand straight, let alone speak.

_Psychosis_

* * *

_“There’s a mirage of you. I see you. I see you. Yet, once my hand reaches for yours, you fade once more away. “_

* * *

 

_thump…. thump…...thump…..._

 

Honerva wouldn't consider herself all that loving, in fact there wasn't much that she did love outside her own research and husband. Everything else was subpar, inconsequential as far as she was concerned. She remembers names of those that serve her, and those that oppose. It's not out of reverence, but simply because she does. Its habit, so to say. But, other than names, rank and generic personal history, she cared very little of attachment. Guards come and go, either promoted or their lives were simply cut short. Assistants, save for a few, also came and went.

 

_thump…. thump…...thump……..._

 

The on goings of others paraded around her in a ceaseless loop. She supposed that was what immorality offered. A ceaseless loop of event, after event. Planets conquered, planets gained. Others destroyed….so on and so on, it hardly matters, just because she married a conquer doesn’t mean she is one. She was alchemist, a scientist first and foremost, and lucky for her, knowledge was infinite, and ever expanding. And lucky for her she had all the time in the world. Time to dissect, to discern, to hypothesis, and to experiment.

 

_thump...thump…...thump……..._

 

It was always the marvel of her day to discover something, never thought of, and understand which was never properly understood. It filled her with personal glee, as it not only benefited her, it benefited Zarkon, if it benefited Zarkon, it benefited the empire. When Zarkon was happy, though happy is certainly stretching it, it made her happy, in a sense.

 

...However, her progress in utilizing raw Quintessence-how to infuse it with organic begins without corrupting their sense of reasoning or resulting in death. So, far it has been proceeding well-slowly exposing young galra to a small dosage of quintessence every two weeks. However, the question was infusing adult galra without causing long-term moral degradation.

 

There’s an itch in face that just won’t recede-she tries to ebb it with a rub of her shoulder, but alas it still persists-ignoring the urge to use her fingers, which at the moment were covered in bodily fluids and blood, as sifts through the intestinal tract of her latest failure. Though, she used failure lightly, as the fool, a galra, male, perhaps maybe 80 years of age, a recently promote commander, hadn’t heeded her warnings in excess exposure to quintessence during long periods of time. It killed him instantly, though he was strong, he wasn’t strong enough to survive the symptoms that followed excessive exposure. Which included violent muscle spasms and tearing, vomiting, seizures lasting 30 minutes or more, excessive perspiration, chills, shakes, defecation. In all honestly, not a pretty sight to watch another living being’s body tear itself from the inside out. A few her assistant either left the room, unable to stomach the nightmare playing out in front of them, or also joined in on the vomiting. Either way, it was cacophony of stench and gruesome displays.

 

She wrinkled her nose, as she found nothing worth noting, aside from a few tissue samples. Death due overexposure. She stitched the body back, as quickly as she sliced it opened.

 

“I suppose that a detailed autopsy report should be sent the family of the deceased. Along with my condolences.”

 

“Yes, Empress.”

 

She stalks over to the laboratory's sink, gloves removed, and let the cool water wash the stomach bile, and blood from her hands. She brushed her cheek against her cheek again with the itching abating somewhat.

 

_Thump...thump…...thump……. thump……. thump……..._

 

Her eyes snapped around. She watched as the rest of the druids, wrapped up the body, and disinfect her bloody equipment.

 

Metal clanked against metal, and shoes pitter patter against the metallic floors. The room was quiet save for the light breathing, and whispers of those that went about their work.

 

…. Perhaps, she was hearing things…. again. She pressed two fingers to her brow.  

 

You don’t look well, Honerva?

 

“Empress?” One her druids, the eldest, spoke. He’s voice was passive, but she noted the edge of concern.

 

“Yes.”

 

“Are you well? You seem faint?”

 

She removes her fingers from her forehead, and crosses her arms, and peers away. “I am fine. Just fatigued, nothing more that should concern you.”

 

“I mean no disrespect. I only wish to express my concern for your health.” he pauses “What you have been asked, has been done, My Empress. Is there anything else that needs tending to?”

 

She turns her amber gaze back to masked face, she briefly wondered what expression he was making under it. “Only that are experimentation on living beings be halted for the time being. We are going and achieving nothing with this-tryst- _thump-thump-thump-thump_

 

Her breath halts-her eyes warily, glance around the room- You should rest, Honerva

 

“My Empress?” she shakes her head softly and waves a dismissive hand “But, that is a task suited for another day. All of you are dismissed for the night.”

 

The eldest druid, hesitates to follow the rest of his colleagues as they filed out the laboratory. She turns to leave, but stops in his steps, to turn his head “Are you sure you are not in need of anything, Empress.” Honerva has already turned her back to him, wandering her desk area, and with a snap of her hand, a wave of blinking screens appears.

 

“No. As I said before you are dismissed.” She doesn’t bother to look back at him. But, she heard him sigh lowly, before taking his leave, and door clips shut.

 

A shuddered breath of trepidation leaves her lips, her fingers grip the edge of her desk, she hears the metal strain and creek-as her shoulders slump. Her long, ivory hair, spills over her face. A sharp chill crawls of her spine, as she squeezes her eyes shut.

 

_Thump...thump…. thump…. thump…._

 

She inhales a shaky gulp of air, and it stings her throat, while she swallows, though it’s harder than it should be. There’s a lump in her esophagus, it hurts to swallow, as if something hard was logged there.

 

 _Thump…. thump…. thump…. thump..._ she growls in the back of her throat. A headache, maybe. It must be a headache.

 

“Honerva?” _thump-thump-thump-_ she pauses-her fingers twitch.

 

Honerva? 

 

She huffs through her nose, to glare forward. “Can’t you just leave me alone.” she seethes through clenched teeth.

 

You are frightened.

 

“An astounding assumption.” she mumbles.

 

It’s not like you to be, so openly startled.

 

She sniffs. She leans forwards, as she were about to heave. It felt like it.

 

I worry for you. You worry me. 

 

“I didn't ask for your concern.” she voice is barely above a whisper.

 

No. But, it won’t stop me from caring for you, Honerva.  

 

“I don’t want your pity.” she muttered. Her chest constricts, and burns, as she inhales and exhales through her nose. Her fingers are bordering on white, her grip slightly cracking the sooth metal of her desk.  

 

There’s a difference between pity and sympathy, Honerva. 

 

“I want neither from you.”

 

You’re so cold, Honerva. Always, so cold. 

 

“I am not cold. I am practical. I see things for what they are. Not what can or cannot be. It is simply being rational, logical, and unbiased. Someone as moronically idealistic as you, would never understand that.” her chest continues to burn which each word that leaves her lips. It’s a struggle to simply stand straight, let alone speak.

 

I suppose-maybe that is way you drifted, so far away. He sighs, it sounds, so tired, so heavy. 

 

Unmentionable emotion bubbles forth beneath her skin and it scares her.

 

“Please leave me, I grow tired of this.” she bunches her shoulders closer together. Her lips tremble.

 

“Honerva?” a voice booms, and one of a lower, deeper baritone that relieves and both alarms her.

 

Her eyes snap up and round- to greet her husband's massive form.

 

“My it’s not every day, you grace my humble abode, my dear.” she snarks weakly. Her fingers are cramping, slowly she releases her grip, her joints creaking. She reluctantly spins around, leaning her weight on the table’s edge, her palms planted firmly on each side to balance herself. Her chest still burns.

 

“Who were you talking to?” straight to the point as, always.

 

She presses her lips together, gazing listlessly back into pools of lavender, as they stubbly search the lab.

 

“No one worth mentioning.” She sighs once more and tilts her head to the side, her golden eyes averted.

 

He humps and crosses his arms. Displeased, but thought better to leave the matter alone.

 

There’s a stillness settling around them, a bit awkward.

 

“Is there a matter that needs my attending?” she leans back.

 

“No.” He looks off to the side

 

“Oh.”

 

“Do I need a reason to see my wife.”

 

She flashes him a coy smile, a slight twitch of the lips, and crinkle in her eyes.

 

“And what would the universe say, hhm, Mighty Emperor Zarkon, being so, bashful. The tales that would tell.”

 

“I am not bashful.”

 

“So, you say, dear.” he says nothing, as he strides over to her. His gaze entirely upon her. “One of your druids has informed me that you are not well.”

 

She narrows her eyes. “I am-

 

“You are not fine.” he cuts her off. “You’ve been seeing him again, haven’t you?” he purses her lips together. Unsure whether to answer, or to evade.

 

“…. Come.” he unfolds his arms, to beckon her closer. She frowns.

 

“Is that an order?”

 

“Must you make everything difficult, Honerva.”

 

“Yes. Because you are a difficult man.”

 

“You are trembling.”

 

She makes a noise in the back of her throat. Zarkon was unable to tell whether she was refusing to acknowledge her state of weakness or it was a haughty attempt at dismissing him, or she had simply run out of arguments to toss at him.

 

_…. thump…. thump……. thump……_

 

Her eyes snap open, here golden eyes darting around, her breath hitches-

 

“Honerva?” she feels her husband places, his large hands on her shoulders, he squeezes lightly-her gaze is still staring off into darken corners.

 

“Honerva.” her gaze jerks back to him, startled.

 

“What is wrong?”

 

“I- “don’t know. Honerva detests not knowing, as much as she detests admitting weakness.

 

“You need to rest.”

“I have wor-

 

“It can wait. Your health concerns me more. Our empire prospers, a couple days will not cause it to sink because your research is postponed.

 

“I-” before another protest can leave her lips, she feels a sudden weightlessness, as Zarkon lifts her up from her feet. Her stomach races, His grip is firm, yet gentle. Out of habit her arms found their way around his neck to keep her balance. She knew Zarkon would never drop her, but the height did unnerve her some. A tick rides by, her stomach settles, and rigidness ebbs, as she lets herself bury her face into the crook of his neck, minding the edges of his armor and helmet. 

 

A heavy sigh rolls of her tongue.

 

“Rest, Honerva.” she closes her eyes, breathing in his scent.

 

“Alright.”

 

It was alright. Right? She just needed rest. She just needed rest……...

 


	2. "Burden"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “I see.” She peeks at him, and watches as he folds his arms. He tilts his head.
> 
> “A child, Alfor. It is another weight, another responsibility upon the others that are already piled upon your shoulders. Alfor. ...can you handle that?” 
> 
> “Honerva…..” he drops his arms. His gaze softens, his brows pinched in concern. “A child is a responsibility, Yes. A large responsibility. But, not a burden. No child should be treated as though, they are brought into this world a miserable weight. They are precious treasures. I hope you come to realize that, Someday, Honerva.” 
> 
> “Realize that you are not a burden.”

 

 

“Burden”

 

* * *

 There’s a heavy load upon my chest, there is sand beneath me, hard and coarse. I can’t not move, I can hardly breath. And yet, I can see.

* * *

 

 

Her chest still burns, usually it is followed by pangs of nausea, that has an unfortunate habit of showing up during midafternoon, during her busiest hours.

 

_Thump….thump…..thump…..thump.thump.thump.thump_

 

Her eyes snapped opened. She’s greeted with nothing, but darkness and the sound of snoring. Her breath is shallow, and harsh, as her chest tightens, squeezes. She groans, as she presses a hand to her chest, rubbing in a futile attempt to alleviate some of the pressure.  She screws her eyes shut-thump _….thump…..thump…..thump…..thump….._

 

She desperately tries to keep her eyes shut, as she brings her legs up to her chest only to notice something slick running down and in between her thighs. Honerva groans but stills herself. Just her luck, though she was grateful for wearing a black nightgown to bed. However, the issue wasn’t even the blood pooling from her nether regions, it was the fact that her very, large husband was caging her body in his iron grip. The back of neck is warm, as his hot breath brushes against her is shallow huffs. Speaking of hot, her body feels abnormally warm. She at, first assumed that it was just Zarkon’s massive body radiating heat, but it wasn’t. The heat felt internal. It was radiating from her, and accompanied by Zarkon’s warmth, it made her perspire through her thin clothing. It stuck to every corner of her body, and it added to her current discomfort.  

 

Zarkon was somewhere in between being a both a heavy and light sleeper. She didn’t want to wake him from his slumber. She pressed her lips together, irritated. But, she slightly turned her head and body at an odd angle. It was strange not to come face to face with pools of endless lavender, but it was a comfort to see him relaxed. Free totally of his armor, and blatant cruelty, all shedded just for her. Her previous irritation falters, as she presses her fingers to his parted mouth, her thumb gently brushing against his bottom lip. She feels his chest rumble; a loud snort breathes through his nose.

 

“It is late, Honerva.” his eyes remain closed. And Honvera keeps rubbing his bottom lip in rapt concentration.

 

“I’m aware.”

 

“Sleep.” he urges, half-heartedly.

 

“I need to get up.”

 

“Why?” she would have rolled her eyes. She just didn’t have any energy to muster up a haughty response.

 

“Are you rolling your eyes?”

 

“No.”

 

“..That’s certainly a first.” he mumbles.

 

She makes a noise in the back of her throat.

 

“Go back to sleep, Honerva.”

 

“I still need to get up.”

 

“And you’ve still haven’t answered my previous question? Why?”

 

“Well, I think you do wish for me to get up, unless you liked to wake up in a pool of blood.” Honerva was losing her patience, and simply opted for the cruder response.

 

“You know perfectly, well that does not bother me.” Zarkon felt something amiss, but otherwise kept quiet.

 

“I know. But, you are not the one bleeding from their nether regions, and quite frankly I do mind waking up in the pool of my own blood. Now, release me, husband.”

 

He did so reluctantly, as she moved away, and disappeared into the adjacent room. He feels the light flicker on, and the once dark room, is dimly lit. He tries to go back to sleep. But, slumber evades him, as Honerva’s side starts bleeding cold, he rolls onto his back, the bed creaks slightly due to his weight. His ears twitch, the sound of metal straining, and then a rush of water. There’s a shuffle of clothing, and the shifting of bare feet upon the tile floor.

 

~*~*~*

 

Honerva presses a hand to her temple. Dizziness. Probably fatigue. Iron. She made a quick mental note to herself to stock up on more iron supplements. She had been, so caught up in her work, that she had nearly forgotten about her anemia. That probably explained the hunger, and increased tiredness, and nausea.

 

So, Careless, Honerva. She squeezed her eyes shut. She moved her hands behind her back to unzip her dress, it falls to the floor with a soft whoosh. She was void of undergarments. She nearly yelped at the sharp pinch of cold air nipping at her skin. It was a shock to her nerves, but a relief to her overheated flesh.

 

Her lips twist, as she peers into the mirror…. Now, that she thought about it, it’s been quite some time since she had actually take the time to look at herself in the mirror. There was no rush, nothing to attend too. She hesitates to come closer. Was she always this thin? Her fingers run down her sides, and over the slopes of her hip bones. It’s there that she spreads her legs apart, expecting to see streaks of blood running down her legs. Instead she greeted with the sight of milky-white. Her brows press together. There’s quite a bit of it...it’s odorless. She feels no burning, nor itching. So, she assessed that there was at least no infection present. She bites her tongue. Perhaps, she was over thinking. Vaginal discharge is normal. It wasn’t out of the ordinary. This time she bit the inside of her cheek and turned to switch on the shower. She kept the temperature cold, and hopped in. She shuddered once more as the cold water scorched her skin.

 

She treads her fingers through her hair, noting the tangles, and the split ends. She was in need of hair cut soon. Perhaps, she could keep it in a bun again.

 

_Thump..thump...thump…_

 

Again! What is that blasted noise! She presses both palms against her temple, her grimacing became more pronounced. Her eyes screwed shut, as her heart picks up its pace again, fluttering hard against her ribs.

 

She listens.

 

Aside from the shower, the thumping becomes far more distinct. It's erratic, and untamed.

Her ears twitch and pull back. She listens closer. What is it? An auditory hallucination? Maybe? Is it? Her hands move off her temples, they hover there for some time, before she takes them lower, running them down the center of chest, she feels the beating of her own heart. She keeps them there...once more listening. She doesn't know how long she stood there with her hands upon her chest, but it hardly mattered as she moved them between her breast, over her diaphragm, slid over belly and stilled them above her pubic bone. She presses into the flesh.

 

_Thump…. thump…. thump…. thump…. thump._

 

Her eyes part, her golden gaze peers down.

 

There.

 

Thump….thump….thump….thump…...thump…

 

_“Alfor, what is it?” Honerva rubs the sleep out her eyes, annoyed._

_“I'm sorry. I am dearly, sorry Honerva. I just -I just couldn't wait. There is something I wish to announce!”_

_She raises a brow._

_“And that requires you to wake me at this time of night?”_

_“Yes! Such glorious news, shouldn't be kept to myself!”_

_Honerva couldn’t help the smile that spread across her lips“..Well, on with it. You shouldn't keep a girl waiting.”_

_“I'm pregnant!”_

_“…. what.” Honerva nearly swallows her own tongue._

_“I mean- my wife she's” he presses a hand to his head, pushing back his disheveled hair, laughing as if he had chugged a whole bout of ecstasy._

_“- I'm- I'm going to be a father! Can you believe that! We just found out today!_

_“Con-congratulations, Alfor.” she says softly. “you look, as if your about to pass out.”_

_“Why wouldn't I. A father, Honerva. I'm going to have a baby! A defenseless little creature I'm going to be responsible for! How can I not be alarmed!”_

_“You've fought wars, Alfor.”_

_“This is a child Honerva. Not a lifelong enemy. A child. My child. I can't go into fatherhood, expecting blood, and conquest.”_

_“You’ve been around many children, Alfor, or have you’ve suddenly forgotten that now that fatherhood has been thrusted upon you.”_

_“Oh, honerva.” He chuckles playfully, shaking his head “I keep forgetting how poor you are with little ones.”_

_Honvera shrugs. “I'm not a baby person. You know that.”_

_“You treat them as though their vermin.”_

_Honerva shakes her head, and peers down at the massive control panel. The lights blinked and beeped. “No. I have serious doubts I'd be a good mother. It has, nor will ever be something I strive for, Alfor. My work is dangerous, and time consuming. Along with Zarkon's. It’s not the type of environment you bring a child into. In any case they’re a hand full, and my hands are full enough.”_

_She hears Alfor hum._

_“I see.” She peeks at him, and watches as he folds his arms.  He tilts his head._

_“A child, Alfor. It is another weight, another responsibility upon the others that are already piled upon your shoulders. Alfor. ...can you handle that?”_

_“Honerva…..” he drops his arms. His gaze softens, his brows pinched in concern.  “A child is a responsibility, Yes. A large responsibility. But, not a burden. No child should be treated as though, they are brought into this world a miserable weight. They are precious treasures. I hope you come to realize that, Someday, Honerva.”_

_“Realize that you are not a burden.”_

_thump….thump…..thump…..thump………_

 

Her body is shaking, as she presses a palm to mouth, smoldering any noise that dare tries to leave her lips.

This can’t be.  This can’t be. She swallows, and yet her throat feels tight, much like her chest.  The cold water is still running, and her once overheated skin, now feels like ice. Her bones feel heavy, and she feels as though she was floating in another reality.

Nothing is making sense. This is -this was not expected. This is not part of her calculations.

 

This is-

This is-

This is-

She didn’t know. She doesn’t know.  And that moment of not knowing crushes her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments, Reviews, Criticisms!  
> I honestly, loved how this chapter came out. The last part is my favorite!  
> And thank you all, for the super nice comments. They really made my day, thank so much!


	3. "Truth"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He looks stunned “You would give me a name?” he questions.
> 
> “Yes, I would love to!” she clasps her hands together. 
> 
> “You wouldn’t mind,” he’s out of breath. 
> 
> She shakes her head-
> 
> For the first time, since they’ve met, he smiles a genuine smile, “Alright,”
> 
> The princess tilted her head. And thought, and thought, and thought- and then it came to her, the perfect name for a prince, who hadn’t a place or a home- 
> 
> “I got it! Lotor! Your name is Lotor!”

_“Truth”_

* * *

_“Things follow a precise session, an infinite loop of cause and reaction. My hand twists yours, and you twist mine.”_

* * *

  
You should tell, Zarkon

 

Be quiet, she hisses.

 

~*~*~*

 

“Father” Honerva peeks through the door. It is late, she knows. But, she could hardly find it in herself to sleep.

 

“I’m busy, Honerva,” her father answers. Yet, there is nothing in his voice.  

 

“I know, but I-,” her words stick to the roof of her mouth.  “Can I- can I watch you work- “

 

“I’m working, Honerva, I do not have time to indulge in your childishness at the moment,” He never looks back. He never does. His back is hunched, his hair disheveled, his clothing crumpled. But, there is still nothing in his words. No anger, or annoyance, or exasperation.

 

There is nothing,

 

“Yes, father, “her feet are like lead, as she retreats from his study.

 

The house is quiet, and she has nowhere to go. She strays pass the kitchen, and her room. She marches on through the dim and dark, her destination decided.

 

The doors are intricate, woven in red and gold, it stands out among the obsidian halls and corridors. The handles lay, a foot above her head, but with effort, the tips of her toes, she reaches the knob without much hassle.

 

The creak of the door sounds louder than it should. The halls are quiet, and it echoes off the walls. Honerva winces, her ear twitches at the piercing squeak.

 

The room, like the hall is dark, with the quick switch of the light it is swarmed in a welcoming heat.

 

An orange honey, so to speak.

 

Honerva is relieved to see her books all in place by the largest bookshelf in the room that stands opposite from the door, she strides over, her previous disappointment forgotten by the door, she hops and skips, twirling and landing on her on her bottom. It doesn’t take long for her to retrace her steps and find which sentence she had left off.

 

_Princess Allura cried out-as she watched from afar the tumbling of rock and stone, her kingdom piece by dreadful piece, and bit by horrid bit had fell -_

 

_And there was not a thing she could do, as her tears fell along with all that she had known. Her face collapse into her palms, and the princess of Oridane fell to her knees, defeated._

 

_She heard footsteps, and crack of twigs. She turned sharply and found the Witch._

 

_She cackled in glee, and the black box that was never supposed to open was now wide._

 

_The princess stood up, appalled and grieved, once she realized she had been tricked by the Witch into opening what should never be opened-_

 

_“You trick me!”  the kingdomless princess cried!_

 

_The Witch just laughed but bowed. “Thank you, Princess,” she calls, all feigned courtesy._

 

_“I could have attained the power which I sought if it weren’t for your help.”_

 

_“How could you, I trusted you!”_

 

_“I know.” she stood up “and now because of you, your country and countrymen have all been laid to waste. What a wonderful legacy you have wrought princess.”_

 

_The guilt was too much. Her father had warned her. Told her never to open the box, but she did, she had been fooled by the Witch’s sweet words- and now everything was gone-Princess Allura could no longer take the weight and fled into the forest with smoke and hellfire billowing behind her._

 

She stops-there are heavy footfalls-her father’s. Her ears perk up, and the handle is twisted. The bags under his eyes look heavier under the orange tint of the library lights.

 

She is right there.

 

He breezes off the to the adjacent, bookshelf, not a word leaves his lips, his eyes glide down and down, until he’s hunched once more-

 

“Father, I can find whatever it is you are looking for,” she pops up.

 

Her father slides a book from the bottom shelf. Her smile melts right off her face, as he shifts through the pages. He snaps the book shut and pivots out the room. He never looks behind.

 

He never does.

 

~*~*~

 

“How do feel?”

 

“Um...Tingly, My Empress.”

 

“Where? Be more specific?”

 

“All over...is that bad-My Empress?”

 

“No. It's fairly normal.”

 

“Any pain?”

 

“No, My Empress.”

 

“No, is fine. Any nausea?”

 

“No. “

 

“Any vomiting?

 

“No.”

 

“Any muscle spasms or muscle pain?”

 

“No.”

 

“Seizures?”

 

“No.”

 

“Any changes in appetite?”

 

“I eat more now...is that also bad?”

 

“No,” Honerva pauses “It should not in any case.” she says more to herself.

 

“Fatigue?

 

“Sometimes”

 

“When?”

 

“After, sparring, mostly,”

 

“I see,”

 

“Any changes in behavior?” the child’s large ears twist, his brows pinched. “Changes in mood,” she clarifies “Being angry all of sudden, or feel intense emotions that seem to come from nowhere?”

 

“Um, I don't think, so.” he tilts his head.

 

“I see.”  

 

She gives the child a once last look over. Vitals were normal. Heartbeat, though a tad bit erratic, it wasn’t concerning. Growth, normal. Though, his strength over the course of the program has increased exponential. So, far, at least on the children’s end, things are proceeding well.

 

“Is there anything else?”

 

“No, Sendak, there isn’t. You are dismissed for the time being.”

 

“Yes, My Empress.” he slams his fist against his chest.

 

Honerva pinches the bridge of her nose, and inhales. Sendak was just the first. She had many more patients to attend too. Even, with the aid of her druids and assistants, it was still a very tedious endeavor.

 

 _thump…. thump…. thump……._  

 

The white elephant in the room persists.

 

“I need a break.” she waves to the eldest druid. He nods, as she leaves the room. As the door slides closed-Honerva found herself at a loss on what to do.

 

A heartbeat. A child. She had no need of one. She never strived to be a mother, not in her previous life, and definitely not now.

 

She could terminate the pregnancy. It would be discreet, and Zarkon, or anyone wouldn’t be none the wiser.

 

_Thump...thump…. thump…. thump…._

 

_Everything would be fine. Everything ‘s going to be fine._

 

~*~*~*

 

“Empress….”

 

Honrok, the eldest of her druids, answers, his hands are stilled.

 

“I need your assistance,”

 

“I will-”

 

“It is personal.”

 

“How personal?”

 

“I’m pregnant,”

 

He freezes. It’s hard to tell whether he was surprised or not. “An heir?”  his disembodied does little to convey what was proceeding through his mind, as well.

 

“No. I want you to help me rid of it.”

 

“The Emperor does not want an heir.”

 

“The Emperor does not know,”

 

There was silence, and Honerva was under the impression that he was going to speak once more.

 

“And he will continue not to know,”  

 

“So, dishonesty then,”

 

Her eyes snap at attention “You question your, Empress,”

 

“No.” he doesn’t flinch, nor does his voice rise in protest. He is as still, and seemingly unconcerned as always.

 

“It is not like you,”

 

Honerva crosses her arms, at her waist.

 

“The Emperor has the right to know that you are with his child.” Honrok, paused, waiting for rebuttal. He receives none, as Honerva jerks her gaze away. It’s hard to see, but, the stench of guilt is hard to ignore. “He is Galra, you needn’t me to tell you how Galra feel about their offspring. Doing what you are doing, now could be seen as a serious offense and breach of trust.”

 

When Honerva failed to respond, he took it as a cue to continue.

 

“You are Altean,”

 

“I am Altean no longer,” the statement is a hoarse whisper.

 

“You cannot change blood, Empress. You fail to see that you walk a thin line,”

 

“I fail to see how birthing a half breed-,” Honerva stops, the word tastes bitter on her tongue, the moment it left her mouth, it burned.

 

“I fail to see how birthing a half Altean-half Galra child will not bring scorn,” she starts more softly.

 

“We have accepted you,”

 

“You said before I walk a thin line,”

 

“In a way, yes. They trust you as Empress, for you have integrated our ways. However, I fear that if do what you are trying to do now, you will find yourself upon a thin line, if it is found that you have robbed the throne of its heir.”

 

Honerva tongue feels heavy, pasted distastefully upon the roof of her mouth.

 

Honrok continues all the more “Tell the Emperor,”

 

She arches her brow “You give your Empress orders,”

 

“No. I am simply affording you guidance. I ask you again, Empress, not to act in haste. Tell the Emperor, he was the right to know. It will do you no good going behind his back.”

 

Honerva sighs, deeply. Sadly. She tightens her hold around her waist. Her nails pressing into her palms.

 

“Alright.”

 

~*~*~*~

 

She sought after Zarkon, only to find that he was held up in a meeting with his generals. She had no intention on distracting her husband from his duties, no matter how consequential it was. She would not interrupt, as he did not interrupt her work. Instead she tells the guard to pass on a message to the Emperor once the meeting had been officially concluded.

 

And once more Honerva found herself wandering the halls, her feet felt like lead. Tired. She was tired. With each step she felt like her energy seeped from her very being.

 

Hadn’t the faintest idea how long the meeting would last and knowing from experience it could very well pass on until morning.

 

She eventually found her way to her private study, a few steps away from her and Zarkon’s bedroom chambers.

 

She had modeled it accordingly. A relic, a cheap imitation of Altean architecture, a cheap imitation of her childhood. It was the only thing Altean that she would allowed herself to have. The doors embroidered with gold and crimson. The same bookshelves one centered, the largest, and two smaller ones flaking the sides. Two couches lined the room with a long, mahogany table that laid in between.  

 

She placed hand upon the soft arm of the couch-

“Honerva….” his baritone voice is soft.  

 

Her fingers twitch, she doesn’t look back.

 

“The guard gave me your message.” the worry is tangled in his tone.

 

“Yes, he did,” she sounds absent minded. She still doesn’t look back. She can practically feel the heat of his enormous body against her back, despite the fact that he is a good two-feet away from her.

 

She moves away towards to the center bookshelf. A cover catches her eye, she peels it out, the book nudged between her fingers.

 

** “The Kingdomless Princess” **

 

She snaps it opened-

 

_“How can that be!” Princess Allura states out loud “how can you not have a name!”_

 

_The prince, without a place to call home, simply shrugs, and sadly, ashamed looks down at his feet. “I was simply not given one,”_

 

_The princess squared her shoulders, and a wonderful idea came to mind, she blurted it out-_

 

_“Would you like it if I gave you a name!”_

 

_He looks stunned “You would give me a name?” he questions._

 

_“Yes, I would love to!” she clasps her hands together._

 

_“You wouldn’t mind,” he’s out of breath._

 

_She shakes her head-_

 

_For the first time, since they’ve met, he smiles a genuine smile, “Alright,”_

 

_The princess tilted her head. And thought, and thought, and thought- and then it came to her, the perfect name for a prince, who hadn’t a place or a home-_

 

_“I got it! Lotor! Your name is Lotor!”_

 

Honerva snaps it closed.

 

“I’m pregnant, Zarkon.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Loved how this also came out. I'm on a roll. And thanks to all the awesome comments! Thank you guys, kudos and all!


	4. "Uranus Foretells"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It looks like something out of horror novel to be frank. There are no fingers, just tiny stumps. Their head is elongated, and the torso is long and they also appear to have an equally stumpy tail. But, the detail that captures her attention the most, is how tiny they are. Barely the size of a small berry.
> 
> “Looks like your seven weeks along, My Empress,” 
> 
> Small, defenseless. And Honerva wonders how on earth she could fear something that could fit inside of her palm and have plenty of room left over.

“Uranus foretells”

 

* * *

* * *

 

_“There is screaming, and drowning is imminent, and but within my clasped palms is a remnant of my heart, clutched close to my chest,”_

* * *

Zarkon didn’t know what to expect from Honerva’s stony silence. He watched her, still and unmoving, as she refused to turn to face him.

He felt…afraid. Fear…fear.

That was an emotion that he hasn’t be familiar with in eons, or what felt like eons.

He kept silent, as she walked to the bookshelf, she regarded it silently, before slipping out one  of the many novels that adorn her shelf. He couldn’t read the words from where he stood, but he recognized the coloring of the hard cover, a swirl of gold, and purples, and sky blues.

The Kingdomless Princess.

He remembers it. Because of course he would remember it. Honerva mentioned it to him many times, and read it to him twice. Twice in which he was forced to rest due to sustaining nearly life-threatening injuries.

His eyes never leave her form. Watching the cascade of white hair descend down her back. He remembered a time, where it was a darker silver, and he remembered how adamant she was about keeping tied in a bun.

She never liked it down. They were many excuses as to why. He had theories about which were true and which weren’t, but it was speculations. She never did truly tell him why.

He hears the book snap shut, and she slides it back into place.

“I’m pregnant, Zarkon,”

He blinks. And Honerva still has her back to him.

“Pregnant? You….are with child,”

“….yes,” her voice is weak. And he can bare it no longer.

“Honerva, look at me,” again he keeps his ground allowing her the space.

Honerva turns, though her eyes averted, one hands clasps her upper arm.

“You’re still not looking,”

“Do-do you want this child,”

“Don’t you,”

“I never wanted to be mother, you know that,”

There’s another hard pressed silence.

“Is a child, so wrong,”

Footsteps could be heard outside.

“We didn’t plan for this,”

“I know,”

“ I haven’t a clue on how to be a mother,”

“Neither do I know how to be a father,”

She finally looks to him. Her eyes seem….so…sad. and tired.

“Honerva…,” she takes a hesitant step, but stops, and crosses her arms tightly around her waist.

“We can make this work…this child of ours,”

“Do you really believe that…..that anything good can come of this,”

“ Our Empire prospers, and quintessence is abundant, we have never be stronger,”

“…..and how does a child fit in. A child that will be only half-galra. What would they think,”

“And what would they think, they would make such a statement t their own rulers,” the threat lingers in the air.

“The child will be raised Galra,”

“What if takes on my traits more than yours, then what,”

“I am still their Emperor, you their Empress, and our child heir to the throne, how many would take that risk,”

“I suppose that is true,” she assents.

“Then…,”

“You really want this child, don’t you,” her frown falters, as she gazes ups him, reminding her of the days where he could barely speak to two words to without stumbling over his own tongue. Her heart warms.

“Yes,”

“…Very well,” The moment the words left her mouth, Zarkon crossed the distance between them, care of her, and cradle her close. She didn’t resist, and let her head rest against his chest, as his embrace tighten and caged around her smaller frame.

It felt usually, to the be the one laying on the cold hard table. She felt a shiver roll down her spine, as the cool metal met the bare skin of her back.

“Just relax, My Empress,”

She doesn’t feel the need to respond, as she watches the head doctor of the ship’s medical bay, set up his equipment. He hums a soft tune of something she doesn’t recognize.

Your nervous 

Honerva doesn’t speak. Her skin, the back of her left hand tickles.

I’d never thought I’d see the day when you’d conceive 

Honerva did her best to look anywhere, but her side. He wasn’t there. She knew he wasn’t. but, it felt so real, he looked, so real…..She angles her head away.

It’s alright to be scared. I know I was when My Beloved was with Allura. 

Of course she’d remember. Alfor would call her constantly with updates.

_I heard their heart beat today!_

_It’s girl, Honerva! I’m going to have a daughter!_

_I felt Allura move. Her foot pressed against my palm!_

_She’s gotten bigger!_

Even, his voice felt real. She winced, as she moved. There is no truer agony then a full bladder she thought with a grimace.

“Shall we proceed, Empress,” She nods mutely.

Her lips tighten when she feels the cool gel smoothed across her stomach. It tickled, and made her feel odd, out of place.

She can hear the hum of the sound waves. Normally the high pitched noise would have bothered her, but today it gave her an odd sort of comfort, as she felt the room was far too quiet for her tastes.

The transducer is placed on the middle of her belly, and slowly with gentle precision, it trails down and down. It feels like hours were painfully ticking by.

_Thump…thump….thump…..thump….thumppp….._

The heartbeat. The child’s heartbeat is now amplified by the machinery, and it consumes the silence she is stewing in. Honerva is holding her breathe, as she looks to the monitor. And what she sees, is nothing she expects.

It looks like something out of horror novel to be frank. There are no fingers, just tiny stumps. Their head is elongated, and the torso is long and they also appear to have an equally stumpy tail.  But, the detail that captures her attention the most, is how tiny they are. Barely the size of a small berry.

“Looks like your seven weeks along, My Empress,”  

Small, defenseless. And Honerva wonders how on earth she could fear something that could fit inside of her palm and have plenty of room left over.

There’s a flow of something coursing through her veins, that fills her with ease.


	5. "Cronus"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is more of a flash back chapter.

“Cronus”

* * *

  _“Time is a terrifying thing. Time can be as kind, as it can be cruel. And with time things drift away, sometimes, so far, so far, so far”_

* * *

 

_There was something about Altean’s sun that made one feel as though all the world’s problems could fade away. It wasn’t like the scorching dry sun like that of Daibizaal. It supplied a warmth that was just the right temperature. That tickled the skin, and carried goose bumps up your arms. It was soothing, as it was kind. Zarkon couldn’t help it, but he found himself enjoying the quiet that nature provided, as he leaned over on one of the Castle’s balconies. His arms crossed over the banister, his eyes closed._

_“I’ve never seen you this peaceful,” Alfor stood on his right, enjoying the sun along with him, admiring the river that passed by._

_Zarkon grunted “I must admit, Aflor, Altea affords a kind of peace, that my planet could only dream of,”_

_“Is that, so,” He answered lazily, and though he couldn’t see him, he knew Alfor was cracking his signature grin. They said no more for a while, as they both continued to watch the ripples dance upon the river’s surface._

_“So….,”_

_“So,”_

_He feels Alfor nudge him, playfully. A smirk painted on his face was the only sign that gave him any hint that he was clearly in the line of fire and Alfor would show no mercy. And his sudden sense of peace and euphoria were melting away to fear, and apprehension._

_“What do you think,” the king quirks a brow, his grin reveals his peril whites._

_“Think of what,” he doesn’t dare look Alfor in the eye._

_“Of Honerva of course,” there’s a long pause between the two of them, with Zarkon regarding the smaller man with a vacant expression before he jerks his head away, and leans away from the balcony._

_“I must go,” he spins on the ball of his heal, but alas to avail._

_“Oh, no, you don’t,” Alfor blocks his escape and Zarkon is close to throwing him off the ledge, to escape embarrassment. He feels the red rush to his face in the most undignified manner, and he’s grateful the others aren’t here to aid in Alfor’s teasing._

_“You like her,” his statement is absolute. And Zarkon has no Idea how to refute or evade._

_“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he mutters, scratching his face._

_“Mhhhhh, I see the way you look at her, all dreamy eyed and smitten,”_

_“I-I-she is quite the woman, I must admit, but you have it wrong. I don’t-do not like her in that kind of manner,”_

_Alfor simply looks at him, and this time Zarkon cannot avert his gaze. For Alfor has certainly a unique way of drawing others towards him. Like he has his own gravitational pull._

_“I cannot hide anything from you can I,” Zarkon yields with a sigh._

_Alfor laughs. “Come on now, old friend there’s nothing to be embarrassed about,” he throws an arm over his shoulder, forcing the rather large galra to squat to hunches to met the Altean’s height. It was a rather odd sight, as they moved away from the balcony and into one of the many halls._

_“That’s easy for you to say,” he mutters._

_“She’s not being courted by anyone, just, so you know,”_

_“Why are you telling me this,” he grumbles, narrowing his gaze._

_“I’m giving you an opening, my good friend. And I’ll have Coran chase any potential suitors away as well. To give you the advantage field,”_

_“She’s not prey, Alfor,”_

_“Of course not, she smacked me if I did,” he laughs out loud. And Zarkon can’t help, but be infected by his mirth. He smiles slightly, and he gives a chuckle of his own._

_~*~*~*_

_“Isn’t she just the cutest,” Allura coos, her chubby hands grabbing loose strands of her father’s hair._

_“Quite, though I must disagree, she does look more like the queen than she does you, Aflor,”_

_“Oh, come on,” he wallows in exasperation, he lifts up the child, holding her cheek against his own “Doesn’t she at least have my eyes,” Allura drools slight, unconcerned about the internal crisis that is befalling her father._

_“Sorry, Aflor. I see no resemblance,” the king huffs through his nose, as he cradles Allura back into both arms, rocking her gently._

_“I fail to see why this upsets you,”_

_“What, is it wrong to want to see parts of yourself in your own child,”_

_“Perhaps, she will be more like you in personality than facial wise,”_

_“Hhm, Queen Allura,” she sneezes at the sound of her name, Alfor chuckles “She’ll make a lovely queen one day,”_

_“A rather arrogant assumption. How do you know she will, she’s hardly, a month old,” he lifts a brow._

_“…. I just have a feeling,” he murmurs._

_“A feeling, or an intuition,” he quirks a brow._

_“Both, I suppose. It’s hard to say. But, I feel as though great things will come from her, I know it,”_

_Zarkon hums observing Alfor quietly, as he fawns over his little one. His countenance appeared far off, not of this place or world, as if he weren’t all here. That wasn’t new, to him at least, Alfor was strange in that manner of simply, seeing more than what is present._

_“Would you like to hold her,” Alfor turns to him, the distant, forlorn look in his eye has all, but vanished into thin air._

_“Uh,” And Zarkon finds himself back in the present, brought from his musings._

_“Come, everyone else has a chance to hold her, it’s only right that you do, too,” he swivels his body to face him, offering the princess all cozy and bundled in her blankets. She’s wide eye, her large crystalline eyes, regard him with curiosity. He’s hesitant, as Alfor instructs him “keep her head in the crook of your arm, and keep your forearm under her body like that,”_

_Zarkon felt awkward, as he peered down at the child. She was, so tiny, and fragile, and hopelessly defenseless that it stirred an odd feeling within him._

_“She’s lighter than expected,” Allura kicks her legs, and squirms slightly, eyeing the strange man with scrunched brows._

_“I know,” he chuckles warmly “It scared me the first time I held her, too,” the large man more comfortable rocks her a tad, and from it, he elicits a yawn from the tiny princess. He wasn’t sure why, but he was put off seeing a mouth vacant of teeth. And then it dawned on him or reminded him of how utterly helpless infants were, and how completely depended they are._

_“I think she likes you,”_

_“Really,” he seemed taken back._

_“What about you and Honerva?”_

_“What about us,”_

_“Children, have you two ever considered any,”_

_“Ah, no, not particular. Honerva’s never been very attuned with children,”_

_“It seems that hasn’t changed much has it,” Alfor’s voice trails, off some, his mirth somewhat abated._

_Zarkon tries to save the atmosphere, eyeing Allura as she fought to keep her eyelids open, but unfortunately to no avail. “You should have seen her try to handle my nieces,” he chuckled, a bit dryly “It was certainly a sight to behold,”_

_Alfor snorts loud enough, it jerks Allura out her sleepy trace. Zarkon observes her warily, as her nose wrinkles, and lips open to a grimace, and the beginnings of low cry comes forth. Alfor mimics his daughter’s scowl, and clenches his teeth, and Zarkon’s eyes widen, as panic starts to fill him._

_“Oops,” Alfor offers to take her back which Zarkon does, so with a hint of reluctance, already missing the warmth the child had left in his arms._

_“Ssshh, my little one, daddy didn’t mean to scare you,” he coos to her, but alas the cries only pitched in volume, and Zarkon felt his ears ring._

_“Oh, I think it’s her feeding time,” Alfor stood, slowly, careful not jostle her “I – “_

_Zarkon waves a dismissive hand “don’t mind me, do what you must,”_

_“I know, but I wouldn’t want to be a rude host,”_

_Zarkon deadpans “Alfor…how long have we’ve known each other,”_

_“Right, right, I’ll be back,” he says sheepishly, which now seemed odd, as he was bouncing on his heels to try and sooth the little princess_

_Zarkon shook his head, watching as he left the room._

~*~*~*~

Alfor….

Emperor Zarkon watched the stars where he sat on his throne. He wasn’t sure whether he had simply dozed off, or had been remising, whatever the case, he felt mildly bothered. He hadn’t thought much of him, of Alfor in quite some time.

Time…..time was such an odd thing, for he is a being that has transcended time itself, and now he rules the universe, even the very stars itself. All and everything has crumbled to the might of his power, and his empire. An empire that will change the history of the cosmos themselves. An arrogant statement he supposed, but it was well warranted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for Reading? Comments and review are much appreciated! And thank you all for the wonderful reviews, so far!


	6. "Ease and flow, round and back"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He found her by the pond, her communications were opened –  
> “Can’t you at least try to come?”  
> Silence.  
> “Father!”  
> A deep sigh follows “I do not have time, I simply don’t”  
> “You can spare a couple of minutes”  
> “My work is far more imperative than some silly celebration”  
> “I’m not asking about the celebration, I’m asking about you-can’t you-can’t you just come-just five minutes-five measly minutes”  
> “I cannot leave, now, Honerva. Perhaps, another time”  
> “That’s what you always say!”  
> “…..Good-night, Honerva” the communications closes. Honerva, he can see from this angle, her lip is trembling. Tears burn down her soft cheeks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More Flashbacks, or Aka just wanted to write some sweet Zaggar.

_“Ease and Flow, round and back"_

* * *

  _“Around and around the cycle goes-round and round, the world conveniently goes.”_

* * *

_He hadn’t a clue about Altean alchemy, how it worked, how it operated. But, the way she spoke about it with such passion and vigor, it made him feel as though he did understand even though he truly didn’t. He shouldn’t stare, she wasn’t looking to him, as she talked, her amber eyes glued to her screens as she gave him the rundown of what she would be doing, and how the operation shall proceed. He nods here and there, as well as ask the occasional question, but his eyes were trained on her. He watched with a restrain breath, as her eyes light up, the way she would bit down on her pen, gnawing it between her teeth, the way her lips parted. It was encompassing, she had a vibe, a singular vibe that he thought only Alfor possessed. The ability to draw one, so close it felt as though Honerva had her own gravitational pull, and he was all too happy to oblige._

_“Your staring,” he froze, as reality threw him back._

_“Um…,” how unbefitting, once more he felt red flush to his face._

_She laughs, her gazing turning to meet his “I can’t help, but be charming, can I,”_

_“You are indeed quite exquisite,” his mouth is running, before his brain is able to comprehend what is leaving his lips. He froze-his eyes wide in mortification._

_Honerva stops, she also freezes, her equally wide eyes peering into his. He gulps, realizing the situation he had gotten himself into. This is something he expected Alfor to find himself in._

_He doesn’t know what to expect, as the awkwardness permeates around them, but her bursting out into infectious laugher wasn’t one of them. She clamps a hand on her face, trying to contain her mirth._

_She snorts, un-lady like, Zarkon can’t help, but feel like he’s missing something._

_“Alfor was right,”_

_“Right? Right, about what,”_

_Her chest continues to heave, though her mirth has quieted._

_“Nothing, nothing,” she waves a dismissive hand._

_He never felt, so lost. He stood straight, his back rigid._

_“Though,” she turned to him fully “I must admit you are cute,” she taps his crimson amour with the back of her palm and winks._

_His mouth goes conveniently dry, and his words are stuck in his throat._

_Perhaps, Alfor was right, he was indeed smitten._

_******_

_Zarkon can’t seem to recall a time where there wasn’t constant noise. If it wasn’t fighting enemy fractions, sitting in on dull meetings, or equally dull sittings that preach a call to peace, and understanding, or simply keeping the universe whole and in harmony. There was still noise, not the call to arms, but to celebrations. And he thought the Galra were overbearing in their holidays. Alteans were not, if louder and rambunctious, and then add that together with equally loud and obnoxious, intoxicated Galra warriors in the mix, and you have a downward spiral to entropy. Chaos personified._

_Zarkon also wasn’t one to over indulge in the consumption of alcohol, and neither was Alfor. But, tonight, tonight it seemed the mighty Altean king acted as if were injected with ecstasy. He watched on, clearly out of place, as Blaytz, Alfor, Coran and **Gyrgan** were singing, loudly, and all of them vocalizing in their own distinct key and…... language. It was horror to his ears. He was also certain that all four of them weren’t even singing the same tune. _

_Fire, and music danced all around him. Families were gathered together, as it was the point of today’s celebration. The celebration of family ties. His brothers and sisters, those who could make it were all present and mingling with those not of their own race, laughing and eating, a sharing cultures as the night wore on and on. He wasn’t bothered by the noise, he was used to it. As he sipped his drink, it came to him that he hadn’t seen Honerva since the day had started._

_He plopped his empty drink upon a random server’s platter. He knew Honerva’s scent by heart, but due to the perspiration, alcohol and food, and heaps of hundreds, it was difficult to pick her scent out. Like the metaphorical needle in the haystack. It took a while, maneuvering, with as much grace as he could through the crowds until he caught her trail that lead passed the castle, and out in one of Melenor’s gardens, the noise grew distant, a relief to his heighten senses. He continued down the stone walk way, at first the only sound that accompanied him was the clack of his boots against the walkway, until his ear picked up on Honerva’s voice. She was up ahead, the relief he felt was but, a small retrieve when he took note of the distress in her voice._

_He found her by the pond, her communications were opened –_

_“Can’t you at least try to come?”_

_Silence._

_“Father!”_

_A deep sigh follows “I do not have time, I simply don’t”_

_“You can spare a couple of minutes”_

_“My work is far more imperative than some silly celebration”_

_“I’m not asking about the celebration, I’m asking about you-can’t you-can’t you just come-just five minutes-five measly minutes”_

_“I cannot leave, now, Honerva. Perhaps, another time”_

_“That’s what you always say!”_

_“…..Good-night, Honerva” the communications closes. Honerva, he can see from this angle, her lip is trembling. Tears burn down her soft cheeks._

_“Honerva?” she jerks towards him, slightly startled by his sudden appearance, it doesn’t take long for the shook to melt, and for her to coming crashing into him, a sobbing wreck, clutching to the plates of his armor. He wraps his larger arms around her, cradling her tight against his chest._

_“It’s not fair” she sniffs. Her dark, silver hair sticking to her face. He softly, pats her back, rubbing comforting circles._

_“It isn’t.” he reminds her. though, he holds back the opinions of her neglectful father, who couldn’t even spare a measly five minutes with his own daughter. How anyone could stay away from a magnificent woman like Honerva is beyond him. He nuzzles the top of her head, careful of his helmet, as she cries and sobs into his chest unhinged._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys it been awhile, since I've updated this story, don't worry I haven't abandon it, I was just taking a break.  
> But, anyways guys that you all for the nice and lovely comments, I truly enjoy what you guys think of my story!

**Author's Note:**

> Reviews and Comments are welcomed? What did you guys think, and any constructive criticisms?


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